My Bloody Valentine... Review: Black Carrot/Nigel Parkin at the Tin Angel, Coventry, Saturday 14th February, 2009...

Rose from my sick bed to go to Coventry – I've missed the Carrot a couple of times recently so thought I should make the effort... The evening started with our usual attempt at getting lost but we managed to find Taylor John's in the end thanks to Murray's electronic homing devices! Walked in paid money and were given a ticket for a glass of wine each – which should have alerted me... Murray suddenly twigged and said: 'We're in the wrong place!' (It turned out that we had wandered into a Valentine's Day Singles event – mucho hilarity). The gig was at the sister joint of Taylor J – the Tin Angel. Luckily the door guy was in a good mood and refunded the money. A brisk route march through a frosty night to the correct venue...

Black Carrot. I confess my allegiance to their cause. But have never seen them with storyteller Nigel Parkin live before ( I reviewed two of the cds he has made with them here...). As the main feature of the Tin Angel Valentine's Day celebration, I wondered how this would work in front of a lively crowd in a fairly cramped venue. Answer: very well... Parkin has a distinctive yet flexible voice that gets inside the material he uses – grand guignol splatters and vamps on Edgar Allan Poe, Kafka and horror films supported by free improvised music. Tonight he offers: a revisionary reading of Dracula, two bites, first and second half (ho ho)...




















But first up – a young busker, whose name I didn't catch, unfortunately. He played accordion and sang in a raw rasp, songs of the streets and beyond, starting with a version of 'London Calling' which was conceptually brilliant. The occasional east european overtones were interesting as well and reminded me of the Roma buskers I saw in London last year – this is going to be a big influence on music here. Plus a nuance or two of chanson/mainland europe's song traditions which broadened his performance further. To me – this is folk music now. Maybe I was sympathetic as an ex-street musician... but I loved this guy, a great opener who went down a storm. Raw, fiery and amusing... The Tin Angel is situated on a corner in downtown old Coventry with two windows that let you observe the streets outside in their gaudy Saturday night finery. That proximity made me fancifully ponder – this guy could have walked straight in off those streets from a pitch to the 'official' space he played in tonight, giving him that extra edge of reality. Yesterday before I wrote this I was cruising the Mudcat site trying to check something and ended up in mounting hilarious fascination at the conversations between some of the guardians of 'folk music' – inaccurate rubbish mostly by ageing tin-eared mediocrities. Not worth even posting a link... the contrast between the doormen to one manifestation of a dying/dead tradition and a sharp intelligent representative of a contemporary one struck me mightily. Hey nonny, dude...
















Black Carrot: for tonight, a three piece, Oliver Betts, Stewart Brackley and Tom Betts providing a subtle wrap for the storytelling of Nigel Parkin. They freely improvise around his narrative lead, bass recorder/keyboard, electric bass and drums in minimal mode. They can blast it out with the best when the occasion demands but emphasize their flexibility here, having worked out how to get a good balance with the voice over their past collaborations, using subtle splashes of colour to accent the movements of the unfolding stories. Two mighty riffs on 'Dracula' from two different character viewpoints that were witty, darkly amusing and also thought provoking without mentally beating you up – a splendidly warped journey into the blood and sexual obsessions of control and subordination, a gloss on Stoker's text that repositions it, turns it at different angles. And fiendishly clever. There is a sharp literary intelligence on display here – as in their other collaborations that spin from Poe to Kafka to now Stoker, an interesting trajectory. Kafka might seem the odd man out – being more obviously 'High Modern.' Yet: these collaborations work so well because their materials are deeply embedded in the wider culture – and the horror/grotesque of much of Kafka - and his feel for the twentieth century zeigeist - dovetails with the weirdness of Poe and this repositioning of Stoker – 'Dracula' is a somewhat rambling book but is a better novel, perhaps, than the guardians of the canon gave it credit for. All this works (apart from the obvious musical skills) because of Parkin's voice: middle class, yes, but avoiding that intrinsic English plumminess/old school actorrr dear heart schtick or the linguistic plague strains of Mockney or Estuary that pass among so many for the demotic. This is intelligent musical theatre... Another counterpoint to this gig was some listening I did over the days before it – random tunings into BBC Radio Four, a channel I never bother with as a rule. Ghastly unfunny and clumsy sitcoms, arrogant newsreaders, voices that struck me as grating – patronising and insecure at the same time. University students who never grew up... Lowbrow stuff by and large... Maybe I missed something... Like all good actors, Parkin avoids this bullshit by the double trick of appearing to be 'himself' and also letting the voices of his characters come through him 'naturally.' I highlight the suspect word deliberately. Much skill and artifice involved and all the more effective for being concealed. To do this in a packed space like the Tin Angel on a Saturday night – and succeed – is perhaps the ultimate test. Of course the choice of source material helps – yes, there are people chattering, laughing and getting pissed, but the overall conception succeeds because people KNOW the background story. “'Dracula,' isn't it...” The Count seems to have escaped from the novel into the wider culture many years ago – via the movies in the main, but also in theatrical adaptions. Almost expected him to be lurking somewhere close... You can dip in and out of the performance without having to follow the contours of the story religiously and still experience the overall power and skill on display. Because there is a loose narrative thread but it is made up from a series of powerful images that the music helps to lift into the room to be easily snatched. In microcosm, this follows the structure of the novel – epistolary, the story told from different viewpoints – in an organic move. Done with style and a great sense of fun – for Valentine's Eve, dark tales of blood and desire... and flies – ah, the flies, Renfield...

Excursions into the gone provincial night... Review: Evan Parker/Ned Rothenberg/Black Carrot at Taylor John's, Tuesday 31st July, 2007

A tortuous journey on foot from the hotel – but I found Taylor John's eventually, tucked down by the canal. Coming in to a bar and the music space off from it just in time to catch the support band – Evan Parker and Ned Rothenberg. Only joking – the headliners, of course, but they had agreed to go on before Black Carrot – Evan Parker announced that this made sense as the other band would be louder and have more people on stage so could build up from them. Or he wanted to get home early! But whatever the reason – I wasn't complaining and the progression worked very well.

In this intimate atmosphere you were up close to the music – which was fascinating throughout. I've seen Evan Parker solo several times down the years and with various groups – but never in a duo. This was casual yet intense if that makes sense, the informal, friendly manner of the musicians contrasted with the range and complexity of the improvisations. 'Chamber music,' as Ned Rothenberg said at the beginning. They rang the changes on the available combinations of their horns – Parker on his usual tenor and soprano saxophones, Rothenberg on clarinet, bass clarinet and alto saxophone. Both of these men work in a wide variety of bands and formats and one can see that stylistic breadth in evidence tonight. Also the divergence – Rothenberg is completely at home with Parker, with a detectable stylistic kinship/(influence?) – but he has obviously fine-honed his own conception and techniques. They started on tenor and alto – Rothenberg giving out long notes that Parker joined with and dabbed round – slowly building until longer lines came in, spreading out the sound now. This was the pattern – long notes as a marker perhaps and skeins of melody spinning round them, with short melodic fragments held up and examined from every angle, shot through with their separate strategies for granularity and timbral extensions. They both took solo spots – Parker's an absolute masterclass in tenor playing, building those impossibly long-breathed lines up from basic fragments that were repeated from different angles until they folded into something else, the game perpetually moving onwards. Dazzled and dizzy among the swirls of notes at one point I had an image of birds spinning gracefully into dense flocks that continually broke and reformed in an image of sheer beauty. Rothenberg came up on his solo from a different angle – rolling up his right trouser leg – which made me wonder if we were about to participate in some arcane Masonic ritual – he damped his clarinet against his bare flesh to create a separate but complementary timbral level – moving from simulated wah wah (not just electric guitar – but equally sounding like a muted jazz trumpet from way back) to popping whoops - as he took the instrument on a quirky ride that encompassed its range from woody chalameau to high squirls. So much out of such a small object. In modern jazz, clarinet was shoved into the background by the saxophone (with honourable exceptions, Buddy De Franco, Jimmy Guiffre, Perry Robinson and recently John Carter and whoever you fancy) - perhaps improvised music with its emphasis on sound mutations as much as linear movement gives it a new lease of life... Towards the end, high notes from both horns created a strange exultant buzzing in a few heads. Entranced indeed... A superb delineation of improvised horn playing... Parker – well, I've been a fan for a long time, Rothenberg is a relatively new name to me – how pleasant to hear him live. A fascinating partner to the elder player – who is still up for a challenge. Note: there are some interesting free downloads of Rothenberg on his web site here... They also have a couple of albums that you can track down here...

















Black Carrot are one of my favourite bands so it was a pleasure to catch them as well tonight. They opened up with that two drum tribal bang thang that brings you straight in to the music - before they proceed to dance around and away from the basic thump into the improvisatory swirl. They are getting a very full sound now with the addition of the second drummer Euan, who also fires off shards of rumbling electronics to further thicken the sound. Martin Summers joined them on bass clarinet – his un-miked playing a little lost in the dense sound surrounding but what I heard was interesting - adding a level of improv/jazz timbre to the bounce plus a sudden lurking flash in my mind of Bennie Maupin's deep runnings with Miles in the Bitches Brew sessions. For that is the point about the Carrot – they have a core style based on accessible rhythms which is flexible enough to accommodate – well, whatever they put there. The two drummers Tom and Euan fire off each other in satisfyingly snappy fashion and Ollie's amplified woodwinds and electric keyboard add splashes of colour and depth, veering gloriously into an r and b tenor honk and bark at one point. (In one of those synchronicities, I am listening to Junior Walker and the Allstars as I write this). Bass player Stuart Brackley's idiosyncratic (and immediately recognisable) improvesperanto vocals were less of a feature tonight – however, going into a semi-ballad at the end with an underscore of tender sparse electric piano. Carrot: the luurrve album, anyone? Seriously, it worked very well and gave a nice change of pace. The Carrot's 'fractured aural excursions' charabanc moves ever onwards...

They also have a selection of free downloads as tasters for various albums on their web site... and a couple of upcoming gigs (2nd and 19th August) with Nigel Parkin in London at the Portobello Film Festival... search through here...

Congratulations to Taylor John's, then, for putting on some challenging musics in an unpretentious and friendly environment at reasonable prices in the gone provincial night, as Jack may have said... I mean: Evan Parker, Ned Rothenberg AND Black Carrot – all for a fiver? I shall return... Soon.

Review: Damo Suzuki with Dragon not Emperor, Plexus, Black Carrot: Zen Pentecostal Tribal Stomp: Quad Studios, Leicester... Saturday 28 April, 2007

To the Quad Studios... a schizophrenic night – in the roles of observer and participant... The venue is in a part of Leicester where many old industrial properties are being converted to new uses. Not far from the centre of town and a great place to play – but if you don't know the area, a difficult place to find... As the promoter's nerves were being stretched further, the audience started to trickle in, building to reasonable proportions. The Quad is a factory converted into well-equipped rehearsal studios with a large reception area where the stage has been set up. Black Carrot and Dragon Not Emperor (their overlapping duo off-shoot) had extensive sound checks due to the amount of percussion to be miked up, presumably. We did ours fairly quickly as I had decided just to bring a laptop and Murray a guitar to keep clutter down to the minimum – although during our set I think the laptop did some strange things here and there, due to the varying sonic ranges and granularities of the samples I had loaded. There was another minor panic at one point when the promoter received an enigmatic text message which looked as if the star of the evening, Damo Suzuki, was having to pull out at the last minute. Apparently a wrong number – but it provoked a frisson or two... As a gig organiser on and off for many years, I know only too well how the stress levels rise and the lure of strong drink is all too irrestible – until all your musicians are assembled and there is an adequate audience to play to. But it was all coming together – Damo duly arrived and soon the first band started up:

Dragon or Emperor – a duo tonight, Stuart Brackley on bass/lead vocals and Euan Rodger on drums and vocals. Opening on a thumping beat that was a signature in many ways for the night – always underneath the sonic mayhem to follow there was some kind of rhythmic guide. Then the bass snapped in and Stuart proceeded to fill out the sound thoroughly – lead and rhythm simultaneously for large sections. His voice is like a third instrument - the vocals are blurred and somewhat indistinct but this is more about sound/texture and meshing as a third line. Certainly he has an extraordinary voice – vibrato-laden in a way that edges towards the ageing fop Ferry as an easy reference point – but a light year away in what he does with it. Dragon or Emperor start the proceedings on a high level and are well received.

Some re-arrangement: Tom at the drums now as Euan comes downstage to his percussion kit and Black Carrot assemble. I once compared what they do to the type of punk-jazz that was coming out of New York when James Chance and Defunkt were Downtown and roaring but tonight they are nearer to rock (pointed up by Stuart Brackley playing electric rather than acoustic bass tonight)– with their own twists and bends and improvisational ethic that combine to make that somewhat addled form still interesting. A deeply visceral sound, often rooted in the bass lines of Brackley who leads the band melodically for much of the way (and sings in that wonderful open-throated voice), with Oliver Betts starting out on the weird instrument I figure was some kind of bass-recorder, miked up, switching to seamy, smoky tenor sax further on in. I remarked above that the night was based on a tribal stomp motif in a way – and this is what brought the disparate tribes together, perhaps. But what makes Carrot interesting is that they don't just stay there... the two-drum lines will start with simple figures that quickly splinter into syncopations, as the bass roams the airwaves from deep to high up the neck and Ollie's horns fill in the gaps, Stuart's vocals plead and seduce... speaking in the tongues necessary – as a fascinating forerunner to Mr Suzuki. What I've always liked about this band is to the fore tonight – flexibility of strategy, backed by an inside/outside selection of moves that gives a pathway in for audiences even as they subsequently take them to strange places – and bring them safely home. It's that tribal boom boom – that dissolves into more complex rhythms and sounds but is always implicit, like a heartbeat. A great set...









The tribal boom boom of Plexus is maybe not so immediately obvious. Playing as a duo tonight – our original line-up – it was the Old Firm: loud, dissonant, and free-flowing with, however, an insistent four four loop slowly dragged in at the bottom as some sort of anchor. Damo Suzuki famously never rehearses – so neither had we (which would have been absurd anyway as most of our music is improvised on the spot). I can't comment much on our set as I was in the thick of it musically – stage left at the laptop with Damo in the middle and Murray to the other side. He gave up a sonic firestorm on his guitar – feedback, bows, mallets, knocking the shit out his instrument. Somehow – and it is a testament to Damo Suzuki's inherent professionalism – and flexibility and freshness of imagination, because professionalism on its own as technique say is nothing without those more elusive qualities – he quickly found a space in the music – and locked into it. I have no idea how long we played – fifteen, maybe twenty minutes as we were lost in the performance, guided solidly by Damo's wonderfully weird vocals – of which more below, when I had a chance to be an observer...

The main set of the night: Damo Suzuki with Black Carrot and the inestimable Mr Teledu added on guitar. Oliver Betts now on electric piano. That stomp started up – the guideline and a heavy rhythm was kept up throughout – criss-crossed by the invention of the two drummers. Bass receding somewhat to lock things down as Dave T's guitar lashed out some sparse figures, at one point bottle-necking fluid treble glissandos. Ollie launching into some forearm and hand-chop clusters in places, reminiscent of Cecil Taylor. Suzuki meshes with the band seamlessly, flying over the frequent stop-time breaks, his voice coming out of the rock tradition but going into very different places. He makes it look almost easy – but it's not. A slight man who exudes a calm centre, he has a surprisingly wide vocal range, sometimes descending to a deep roar that surges from some bass area channeling Beefheart and Howling Woolf – a trace of Louis Armstrong's scatting? - with maybe something intrinsically Japanese tonally mixed in. An improvised, abstracted vocal blending the melody and the rhythms seamlessly with the backing musicians, sung with a fervour that rivals a Pentecostal foray into speaking with tongues crossed with a lash of Zen... a shamanic performance as Damo sings in a language of his own invention. He retains vestiges of the old hippie idealism from a more innocent time (his musical origins in Germany as a street performer and his tenure with Can) – yet he is not some old rock panhandler out doing the retro-revival circuit. None of the dinosaurs would have the nerve and grace to travel the world and perform spontaneously as Damo does with his selected 'Sound-Carriers:' musicians who come together locally to play with him – which ensures that he keeps each appearance fresh. Maybe sometimes it won't work, due to the high-wire nature of his game, the chances taken. Tonight it did... I speak for all the Leicester Sound-Carriers – it was a great privilege to perform with Damo – and fun, too!